J. Bradley: The hog wives

He weaved about, as if drunk, then firmly planted his feet astride the gutter and concentrated. A stream of piss began to dribble slowly from his prick. It gained in strength, until he was shooting out a strong stream that stirred up the straw and dirt in the gutter.

He shook off the last drops, tucked his tender cock inside his shorts and coveralls, then turned to look at his wife. Grace had slumped over to lie on her side, her head still trapped by the stanchion that imprisoned her neck.

Cole freed her, then helped her to her feet. She leaned against him for a moment, tilting her head up to look into his face. She was trembling slightly.

"That was good, honey," she told him. "Better than good; it was great! But I haven't changed my mind about Randy; I could smell his funky odor all the time you were fucking me, and I wanted to try out his hairy goat's prick all the more. Am I going sex-happy, Cole?"

"I doubt it," he said, hugging her as he chuckled quietly to himself. "I had a hankering to plow into Rachel… it was just as sudden am impulse as it was an overpowering one. I didn't question it; I just whipped out my cock and went at it."

"You really don't mind helping me with Randy, then?" Grace had to know. She was enjoying a feeling of wickedness, but she wanted Cole to share the guilt with her.

"It might be kicks," he said thoughtfully. "Of course, we'd have to figure out some engineering. It'll take some preparations; a billy like Randy is a hell of a lot more rambunctious to deal with than a nanny like Rachel."

"You'd better believe it!" said a deep male voice from the front doorway of the milking barn. Grace leaned aside to peer past Cole's shoulder just as he turned to stare at the intruder.

"Where the hell did you come from, George?" Cole asked. His voice was tight with embarrassed shock.

"What's ready important," George said, "is that I'm here at the beginning of your ambitious experiment. I may be uninvited, but can you think of a better consultant than a doctor of veterinary medicine… as long as I'm already in on the secret?"

"Jesus!" Cole said. He let his arms fall from Grace's shoulders as he turned and sat down on the nearest milking platform. "I need a drink… a big one."

"Invite me into the house and I'll pour," George offered. "You look as though your hand might not be too steady."

"You may be right," Grace agreed. She had too much poise to make an undignified rush for her clothing. With a body like hers, she had no need to feel shame, as George's hot glances assured her. "This is the second time Cole's been surprised by someone in the last half-hour. I came in while he was screwing one of the goats."

"Wow!" George said. "That could make a guy a bit shaky. Come on, then; let's have a drink while we talk this out." He started to turn away, then he looked back at Cole. "Need a hand getting in to the house?" he asked.

"Thanks, I'll make it," Cole assured him. He got up and gave Grace a perplexed look and shrugged his shoulders helplessly. She made an attempt at a wry smile, then began to put on her clothes.

When they sat around the kitchen table, icy drinks in front of them, George had to laugh at the foolish, lost expressions on the faces of his host and hostess.

"Let me ease your minds a bit," he said, eager to break up the tension and take advantage of the situation that he had fallen into. "I guess we've known each other for… how long, anyhow? Four years?"

Cole and Grace thought about it. George and Dorothy Lambert had been introduced to them at a Grange party right after the young vet took over his uncle's practice in Gatesville. Yes, it had been almost exactly four years. They both nodded agreement.

"Well, during that time, I've almost approached you on numerous occasions about a little extramarital swinging; Dot and I have had a hell of a lot of fun swapping, and you two struck me as being among the more adventurous souls in the community, but…"

The vet stopped to sip at his drink, eyeing the McDonalds over the rim of his glass.

"But what?" Grace leaned forward, curious to know what had prevented the approach.

"Well, you know what the town is like… what any small town in this part of the country is like. A wrong guess about something like that and I could lose most of my business overnight. After four years here I'm still not considered a permanent citizen. I just wasn't certain enough about you two to take the chance."

"And now you are, huh?" Cole said with a sheepish grin, seeing the irony of the position in which he and Grace found themselves.

"Well, I figure that a couple broadminded enough and sexually advanced to the point of screwing on a milking platform and planning a session with a billy goat… well, they wouldn't be likely to have me run out of town for suggesting a swap."

The McDonalds looked at each other appraisingly and read mutual interest in their facial expressions. After the goat involvement – Cole's act with Rachel and Grace's stated intent with Randy they could hardly balk at trying a swap with desirable members of their own species.

"I guess we're interested, all right," Cole admitted. "How do we arrange the thing?"

"Just as simply as you'd plan any kind of party," George said. "But for now, what about this thing with your stud goat? If you're serious, I can give you a few pointers. In fact, I'm sure Dot would like to get in on it, if she knew about it."

"It looks as if our social life might be picking up a bit," Grace commented with a grin. "It's a relief to learn that we're not completely abnormal… I mean… there are others who think it could be fun to screw a goat, for instance."

"Hell yes!" George told her. "You don't know how lucky you are, to be on a farm where you can have access to animals without arousing curiosity There are thousands of people who'd like to try it, but how do you smuggle a goat or a sheep into a city apartment?"

"I know what you mean," Cole said. "In most places, they won't even allow a dog or cat. That's what decided Grace and me; city life looked too constraining. We started planning for the farm while we were still in college."

George had taken a notepad and pen from his pocket and was starting to sketch something. Cole and Grace leaned across the table to see what it was. They saw a rough cartoon of a billy goat restrained by some kind of harness or grille-work. Beneath him was a box or table covered with padding or something. As they watched, George began to draw the figure of a woman; she was depicted as leaning over the padded surface, her ass upturned just below the goat's cock

"Now, here's what we have to do," George explained. His pen flew, making swift lines here and there on the page.

Grace thought about the hairy prick of their stud wedging into her cunt and stuffing her full of his hot goat come. She grew warm and excited, and a flush spread over her face.

She was even glad that Dorothy Lambert would share the excitement with her. Not since college had she found a girl friend with her own taste for adventure and comradely chitchat; maybe Dorothy would become the sort of fun pal that could make life in rural Wilson County a little less monotonous.

And Grace was not forgetting the fact that George would be a participant, too. He looked as if he knew how to please a woman…

Cole watched the drawing develop under George's pen, and he had his own thoughts about Dorothy Lambert. The lovely blonde had intrigued him from the first time they met; now he could count on sampling the ripe wonders of her very promising body.

He saw Dorothy in the cartoon of the bent-over woman, and instead of the goat poised above her, he imagined the tense form of his body-cock rigid and ready to enter her. He wet his lips and felt his prick throb within the confines of his coveralls.